Victory
by Shadowy Assassin
Summary: Cinder - desperate peasant. Kai - revolution leader. Scarlet - Kai's right-hand. Wolf - Captain of the Royal Guard. Cress - Crown Princess. Thorne - imperial soldier. Winter - royal food taster. Jacin - resistance fighter. They are all so different, each struggling to accomplish his or her own goals. But when their paths collide, they must unite against a common dark force.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, everyone, and welcome to _Victory_! **

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**Full Summary _(background on each of the important characters)_ :**

 _Cinder_ _:_ Cinder is one of the most wanted criminals in all of Azaluna. She fights the desperate fight of a peasant as she strives to provide for herself as well as Peony, who is practically a younger sister to her. And to do so in a harsh and unfriendly world, Cinder has had to thieve, often breaking into places violently, for the last two years - and hasn't been caught. Nothing will stop her from protecting herself and those for whom she cares.

 _Kai : _Kai (Kaito) is the leader of a bloody revolution against Queen Levana of Azaluna. He has led the _Zanyah,_ an ancient term for 'warriors', as their unofficial leader for the past few years. The existence of _Zanyah_ was only discovered about two years ago, when Kai led a horrifyingly unsuccessful raid on the royal palace itself. Since then, he's matured, gradually developing those around him into formidable warriors as he strives to put a more deserving leader on the throne.

 _Scarlet_ _:_ Scarlet is Kai's right-hand. She's a second-in-command, like a sister to Kai ever since an early age. Scarlet excels in archery, and will never miss her target, making her truly deserving of her respected point at Kai's side. Both she and Kai are known as the leading figures of the _Zanyah_ to the royalty, and have been constantly avoiding soldiers and guards on wary lookout for them. But she's determined to succeed, and nothing will stop her.

 _Wolf : _Wolf is the Captain of the Royal Guard, a title passed down for generations. Thus, when his father passed, he filled the respected position at the age of twelve. Though young, he proves himself more than worthy of the position, practically forged of rock and stone when it comes to eliminating those who stand in his way. Wolf knows his responsibilities, and will try his best to follow his duty no matter where his heart tries to lead him.

 _Cress_ _:_ Cress (Crescent) is the Crown Princess of Azaluna by birth. Her mother passed when she was young, and her father - the king - remarried to a well-born lady named Levana - the new Queen. The king passed years ago, leaving Cress's foster mother to take over the kingdom with her own harsh ways. Cress is quiet and reserved before others - though fully against Levana - but alone, she sets herself free. She holds something inhuman in her hands that could be either a blessing or a curse.

 _Thorne_ _:_ Thorne (Carswell) is a soldier in the Queen's Army. He was forced into the position by his parents - now deceased - against his will, yet proved himself to be a worthy and adept soldier - ranked fifth best in all of the royal soldiers. But his heart pulls him out of the castle, urging him to break free of the harsh bonds burning into his wrists. Deep within, he is utterly disloyal to the queen; and over the years, he has been working up the courage to desert - a crime punishable by death, if he were caught.

 _Winter : _Winter is the royal food taster, and the last thing that she wants is to be dragged into all the revolution mess. She has a hopeful, sweet personality that warms the darkest of hearts, but she keeps herself reserved save for a few friends. She just wants to lead a simple life, stick to her duty to Queen Levana, and nothing more. But life can never be that easy, and throws a twist in her path. Winter finds that she is torn between her duty to Levana and where her heart aches to lead her.

 _Jacin_ _:_ Jacin is one of the _Zanyah,_ having worked up his physical abilities over the years. He's one of the most trusted and dutifully loyal fighters of the revolution, as well as one of Kai's closest friends. But something within him calls him outward, not to some _where,_ but to some _one_ \- and soon enough, he learns that not everything can be heard with his ears - many are heard from the heart, and part of his duty is to follow his heart.

 _Levana_ _:_ Levana is Queen of Azaluna, the sole ruler of the kingdom for the past few years. She wasn't born into royalty, however; when the true queen passed, the king remarried her in order to fill the spot. In doing so, Princess Crescent became her foster daughter; and although Levana can sense that Cress is against her, the two stay out of each others' way. And then, the king himself passed, leaving her to take over the kingdom. Levana is harsh, and will turn the knife on anyone who attempts to take her throne.

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 **Without further ado, then, let's get started!**

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CHAPTER 1

 ** _Kai_ _:_**

 _Eight seconds._

Kai lifted his head from where he crouched in the bushes, watching Scarlet ascend the wall with feline grace, her red hair blowing behind her as she remained motionlessly perched atop the wall, waiting for four other men to climb up, two on each side of her.

 _Four seconds._

Scarlet tilted her head to either side, checking to see that the four other archers had kept up with her. Kai ran a hand through his dark hair before meeting the gazes of other _Zanyah_ with a definite nod, masking the apprehension he felt inside.

 _One second._

Kai drew in a breath as Scarlet turned directly to where he crouched and met his gaze. She put both hands to her chest, then moved her right arm outward in a wavy motion, followed by her left - the practiced _'ari'_ signal, known by all of the _Zanyah._

 _Go._

Kai jumped to his feet, a swift motion that called for the others around him to rise as well.

Looking up, he saw that Scarlet was already moving, a single arrow piercing straight through the royal gatekeeper's left eye before the middle-aged man realized what was happening. Kai grinned to himself. Scarlet never ceased to impress him with her skillful aim as an archer.

Kai raised his right arm, forming a fist and revealing to those behind him the tattooed mark stretched across his upper arm - the flag of the _Zanyah_. The blue and gold were now a legendary symbol of the revolutionaries, worn on any exposed skin of all the _Zanyah._

The flag was up, now, too, as Kai turned the rotating crank mechanism and let the gates slide open. Kai breathed in as he turned to face the _Zanyah_ as the unofficial leader of the revolutionaries - yet a well-known icon, along with Scarlet.

These were _his_ people - those who believed that he could do it. Those who believed in _him._

But he had felt the same way two years ago, when he first led the _Zanyah_ out into the castle - a brutally unsuccessful raid. They'd been all but destroyed, leaving what was left of the _Zanyah_ to run for their lives. Kai hadn't given up... and had spent the past two years training new _Zanyah._

Stars, he hoped the same thing wouldn't happen again.

He still hadn't forgotten the effort it took to move his feet away from the scene that day, leaving all those limp, broken, all-too-familiar bodies behind him. He'd wanted nothing more than to just burn the scene down, then and there - if he'd had the power. Those huddled shapes on the ground, twisted and broken in unnatural ways, well beyond recognition, eyes clouded and glassy, the spirits leaving forever...

Kai shuddered at the memory.

 _No._ It was not going to happen again. It was different this time, Kai told himself. They'd trained hard, and they were more than just half-starved peasants. They were the _Zanyah,_ at their strongest, having built themselves up. That had to count for something, didn't it?

 _But it could also replay the incident from two years ago._ Kai tried to force away the harsh cloud that shrouded his senses with bitterness, but it came anyway, filling his mind until all he could see were the bodies of those who stood at his side.

There had been someone in that raid, someone _important._ A girl, with dark skin and hair that poured wildly over her shoulders, making her appear stronger and fiercer than she truly was. She was just something with a tough outside, that could be snapped without a second thought. Something that _was_ snapped without a second thought.

They'd been friends longer than they could remember. It was always Kai, Scarlet, and Sana, ready and eager for anything that stood in their way. Whatever one faced wouldn't be faced alone, on their part. _Sana._ It hurt for Kai to recall the name, a pang burning into his throat.

 _I couldn't save her._

They were supposed to be in together. They were supposed to face the royal resistance as one. They weren't supposed to find such an unforgiving world.

Kai couldn't forget the way Sana had battled to the end. Though an untrained savage, like the rest were at the time, she had just been desperate to survive that madness, to find a safe way out of a dark cavern with no doors. It was sheer desperation, the way fire had burned at her eyes as she went utterly wild against two trained royal soldiers, knowing that she wouldn't survive it.

Sana had called out to Kai, and he had turned. But he was too slow, too far away - though he ran, anyway. There was still a hint of a sad yet sure smile across her face as the sword slashed through her chest, her eyes raging as she fell.

Kai shuddered. _I'm sorry._

He couldn't lose anyone else. He couldn't watch the _Zanyah_ fall again, ripped apart until the blood of those whom he grew alongside painted the ground. He couldn't see familiar, yet hauntingly empty, faces line the ground, again. He had to live to see Scarlet, Jacin, and all the others remain standing.

But they believed he could do it. They put their fully unflagging trust in him, and would die for him without a second thought. They thought he knew what he was doing. The believed he would lead the _Zanyah_ to victory. He had to try again. For Sana. For all those whom he had lost, whom the _Zanyah,_ as one, had lost.

They had nothing to lose. This battle wasn't for victory. It was to satisfy their selfish pang for revenge, to make up for the lives that were lost two years ago. Every past life for another, they would claim. They were one with the past, and would have to face the future together.

Kai turned and gave the _ari,_ his arms moving in the signal's practiced movements before he realized it himself.

Looking up, he saw Scarlet release another arrow from where she crouched atop the gate, presumably hitting its mark somewhere beyond Kai's line of sight. Almost as if she sensed him watching, the archer swung her head around to meet his steady gaze with a crooked grin.

A single wordless call from Scarlet, her head tilted upward to face the skies. Slowly, the voices of the _Zanyah_ mingled in. Jacin, then Evelyn, then Ashe, then so many others that Kai recognized yet didn't recognize at the same time... all as one collective call, calling victory to shine down upon them and guide them forward.

 _I am the Lion, leader of the Zanyah. I will fight with all of my soul._

Kai followed last, his dark eyes gleaming with intensity as he, too, turned his head to the skies. _This is for you, Sana. And for everyone who fell beside you._ His voice shook, then steadied, as he lifted his head in a savagely commanding call.

And hell broke loose.

* * *

 _ **Thorne :**_

As the steady beating of drums went off in the familiar pattern that signaled an alarm, the words _'Invasion. Silver Platoon, Red Platoon, White Platoon - all to Castle Front'_ thundered in the air, the familiar voice of the announcer ringing in every room of the royal palace.

Thorne watched as the soldiers in his platoon - Silver Platoon - didn't waste a moment as they sprinted, single file, each no more than a foot behind the one before, into the palace. He was supposed to go, too, to run down the passageways of the royal palace and emerge at the Castle Front to ward off the invasion. As the soldier ranking fifth best in all platoons, all of the royal army, Thorne was a major part of the Silver Platoon. Sure, it was okay to be a part of _the best_ platoon in the royal army, but it made him feel less 'okay' that his platoon was _the best_ at brutally killing and dismembering attackers at the slightest cause.

That was all the soldiers did. Train. Hurt. Kill. He'd hated it all his life. He never wanted this position as a soldier in the first place... and now, he was bound by law to leave.

Thorne had been planning to desert.

It was a crime punishable by death if caught - which it _always_ was. But couldn't even death be better than a life like this? He _had_ to take his chances, as he'd decided a year ago, and had drawn up everything into a plan that he was almost sure would work.

An infinitely complex plan - all proudly constructed by Thorne - that involved a year of manual digging holes, locating caves, and a twisted trail he would follow. And that was a statement... considering it was foolproof in the eyes of the fifth-ranking soldier in all of the imperial army. He'd just never imagined that it would be so soon... but opportunities like this were too good to waste. It was rare that he would come across such an opportunity - and he'd realized it the moment that the announcement went off.

Thorne turned away from the direction where the soldiers had gone, stripping off his armor and throwing it to the ground. There was absolutely no one in his sight as he removed his weapons, one by one, save for two wicked-looking twin daggers, which he kept sheathed at his sides. He could make his move, and - hopefully - not be caught. He could _desert,_ like he'd always wanted to. Thorne scaled the back gate of the palace - behind the soldiers' training area - with deft ease, using everything he'd ever learned to keep himself undetected by the guards at the bottom.

 _Looks like all that training came to some good, after all,_ he reflected, as he slipped down the other side, pressing himself flat in order to remain hidden. He counted to seven, keeping his timing precisely perfect to slip past in the exact moment when all four of the moving guards where facing away from him.

Thorne grinned to himself, breaking into a steady jog through the trees. _Perfect._

* * *

 _ **Cress**_ _ **:**_

As soon as the alarm drums and the announcement went off, Cress - or rather, Princess Crescent Moon - had relayed her excuse to her maidservants, leaving her quarters with the lie that she had to go to check on her foster mother, the Queen.

No, there was no way that she was going to even _bother_ to check on Queen Levana. She didn't care for her - in fact, was against her - but it was the only way to leave her quarters. And oh, she hated it. But she knew that burning sensation deep within her like the back of her palm. She knew that it called for a quick excuse to leave the palace before she burned over.

Cress ripped her skirts - the blazing things she always had to wear - to her knees so that she wouldn't trip as she darted past the guards down the passageway, already fabricating an excuse in her mind for that. She turned down a familiar series of hallways, only stopping once she reached a door - _the_ door that led out the back side of the palace.

She didn't stride out of the gate as a princess might; instead, Cress turned to the side and raced across the field, beyond where the palace structure ended. The burning sensation within her twinged sharply, pulling on her heartstrings until they ached. Cress could see the East Gate of the palace at the edge of her vision, but it was past this vast, empty expanse of green meadow that had never had any true purpose for the imperial system. Yet another luxury which Levana wished to boast of, probably.

As she neared the gate, Cress scanned the ground before her as she jogged, slowing down slightly to find her marker. _There._ The familiar silver arrow was driven into the ground, marking what looked to any ordinary eye like a darker patch of grass, or a simple shadow, blending in with those of the East Gate. But Cress knew it to be something entirely different, had trained herself to feel for it from well inside of her.

Cress stopped short, then dropped to her knees, scanning the empty area around her to make sure that she was alone. At her mental confirmation, Cress slipped up next to the silver arrow and pushed aside long tufts of grass to reveal what she was looking for.

A hole. Nothing cozy, just a dark, shapeless hole that was barely enough for even a five-foot girl like Cress to fit into. But beyond that, it opened up the slightest bit, its walls growing smoother and less of a pain on Cress's bare knees as she pushed her way through.

After three years, Cress knew her way through with her eyes closed, knew every rock that jutted out from the dirt.

It had been three years ago when she first discovered a hole in the ground that went five or six feet down, but just stopped, without a purpose to it. And a plan had formed in her mind, a plan to release her unnatural power in a place where it would never be discovered by those inhabiting the royal palace. It had taken an entire year for her to put it to use.

She hadn't dug up the entire thing - even with her resolve, it would probably have taken her a total of three years or so. No, more than half of it had already been constructed - in fact, the majority of it - and her sole job was to bring it back up to level ground in a simple ramp. Cress always assumed that it had been used for the soldiers, but had caved in on itself years ago - but she couldn't say for sure.

Either way, it had taken her small hands a year to dig an angular ramp on the other end, at the point where it stopped, a good seventy or eighty yards on the other side of the gate. She didn't mind that her hands were now peppered with a few small scars, here and there. Everyone bore them - she told herself that they shaped whom she truly was.

Cress kept her head low as to not hit it along the dirt roof of the tunnel as she crept forward.

She gritted her teeth suddenly as an ache flashed through her, almost caving her body inwards, as the fire inside her called, pulling so harshly that she winced visibly - or what would have been visibly if it weren't pitch-black. _Almost there,_ she told herself, her nails digging into the dirt to steady herself as she ascending the ending ramp. The burning had never pulled this much before, this strongly. Probably because it was the longest time she had ever restrained from unleashing herself outward: three months.

She winced as the blinding sunlight blatantly struck her face, and Cress turned to see the guards back at the fence - not paying attention to her, the same way as always. Cress dropped flat amongst the tall grasses, creeping away from the palace gate, toward the familiar small cluster of trees a few yards away.

It was always a relief when she reached the trees. Cress collapsed against an oak, gasping for breath as the burning sensation clawed at her again, viciously. All right, so she was _never_ going this long without unleashing her power again. Ever again.

But the balance was so hard to maintain. There had been times when she came out here each day, releasing her power into the air. And... well... it had shown up. She had been exhausted, physically - didn't wake up for two days, and couldn't let out any power for the next month.

Which was a good thing, but she never knew when she would need it. Though she definitely _was_ set on keeping it from Levana, who would probably use it somehow.

The ache vanished as quickly at it had come, and Cress drew in a breath before jogging through the trees. She raced across a clearing, then hurled her small self over a short fence - short even for her - before finally dropping to the grass in the midst of a fully deserted meadow. The _'secret meadow',_ she liked to call it - in her head, of course, for she could tell no one. Doing so would involve bringing up the concept of her power, her inner self.

And besides, no one really knew who she was. She'd always been reserved and within herself, in the eyes of everyone else, she was just... well, abnormal. She just meant a blank figure to the _Zanyah,_ and nothing more than a placeholder, someone to rule _instead of_ Levana, because anyone was better than the current queen. The people all thought she was abnormal, strange... and Cress didn't honestly care. Let them believe that she lived in a cave in the castle, filled with bats and gnomes. And besides... she was already abnormal, _inhumanly_ abnormal, just not in the ways that everyone thought.

Cress rose, slowly, to her feet, and lifted her right arm directly above her left shoulder, the exact position from which she began each time. Sure, she often moved off of whim, her arms dancing as of themselves, but she always began the same way, like she was mentally readying herself.

And swept her arm downward in a graceful curve, creating an arc of fire.

Living, burning fire, that she could maintain as long as she wished. Well, as long as her power didn't collapse from her exhaustion: a fire-loss, as she called it.

Her other arm moved up, creating a simple halo of flames around her hair, that would not burn her unless she commanded it. Which she was not going to do. Each hand cupped a small flame as she spread them up, wide, then spun, in a simple, fluid movement that left her wrapped entirely in fire.

It just made her feel so... alive - so _different_ from what everyone thought she was. She let the burning flames disintegrate and vanish, then swept her arm out to let her fire ripple outwards against the grass. Though she tried her best to control it, as she always did, Cress saw that most of the grass was singed brown - in some places more recently than others. She always held back from actually destroying the grass, but her power usually leaked through.

She didn't know why someone like her would be given the power to destroy things at whim. Cress could just wave her arm outward and set something on fire with that simple movement, if she so willed it.

Her hair was ripped from its tie, draping down her back and pooling thickly at her feet. The haze of fire around her flickered out, and she set the ends of her ripped dress on fire as she spun again, arms out. She was just a star of fire, a flash of light in the midst of nowhere. Flames shot from both hands, but vanished as quickly as they came.

Her arms spread wide, forming a circle around her that hovered for a few moments before vanishing.

Cress brought her arms down, drawing in a breath. She'd always made it a point to draw her power out as long as she could - that is, each time she came to the 'secret meadow', she kept a simple flame burning as long as she possibly could... to strengthen what she could do. As if it weren't impossible enough already.

All other flames burned out instantly as Cress turned her attention to a small flame cupped in her palms, raging upward as she kept it contained to its size. She would keep it as long as she could, her eyes for nothing but the single, flickering flame. Cress _could_ control it without her arms and hands... but it often helped her to use her arms to visualize the direction and overall image of the fire before she created it.

Her mother - her _true_ mother - had known about it from the moment she had been born. Cress only had vague memories of her mother, helping her to control this raging fire at a young age... but she had died when Cress was four - before Cress could really get to know her. Since then, she'd often wondered what it would be like to have a _real_ mother instead of a harshly tyrannical figure like Levana. After that, her father had helped her with the same thing, but he, too, passed when Cress was only nine. Fortunately, her father had promised her to keep the fire a secret... meaning Levana still didn't know. After that, Cress released her flames on borrowed time: in the washroom, in the dressing room, in the closet... wherever she could find time alone - for the year that she spent finishing the tunnel. And now... well, here she was.

Sometimes, it hurt to let the fire burn like that; sometimes, she just felt it seeping at her energy; sometimes, she felt nothing at all.

Today, Cress felt like she had _too much_ energy, as if she could go forever if she tried... but also that she would explode into flames any minute, sending fire raging uncontrollably all around her. It... well, it terrified her, but she set her jaw and kept burning, her eyes glittering. She burned and burned and burned.

Cress started as she glimpsed a silhouetted figure jog silently away, passing her without a second glance, in the opposite direction of the palace.

Flames forgotten, Cress stood, watching as the figure jogged away at a decent pace - seemingly have run a long way. The well-built structure definitely belonged to a male, a man who had much physical experience before, from the look of him - even from behind. His pale blonde hair shifted under the breeze, his muscular arms tightly clenched at his sides. Cress watched, awed, as he lifted a hand to run through his hair.

Her arms fell limply at her sides as she watched, unable to tear her gaze away, as the figure dropped into a crouch to the ground, running his hands through the dirt as if he was searching for something.

Cress's legs were moving before she knew it, adrenaline rushing through her as she ran, trying to keep her footsteps as silent as possible as she tried to catch up to the point where the figure crouched. She didn't even gasp for breath as she finally paused, a few yards to the side of where he crouched.

The face was familiar. She'd seen it projected in many posters, charts, and screens before: one of the top five soldiers in all of the imperial army. This figure was fifth, if she remembered correctly - judging from his blonde hair. Cress's face flushed as she recalled that she had found the face handsome from the posters... with a square jaw and startlingly blue eyes.

If this was the same soldier... well, first, he would be achingly handsome, and Cress wasn't entirely sure if she was ready for that; and second, he was just a boy. Oh, and third - what in the stars was he doing out here?

 _Deserting,_ the answer tumbled and tossed in her head, though she didn't want to believe it.

Cress frowned. Although imperial law required anyone to report a deserter - if not try to apprehend him or her - Cress simply didn't want to take away the opportunity of freedom from _anyone_. He could possibly have a good life, somewhere out there, if he was never caught.

 _He's a deserter,_ the voices thundered, growling in her head.

 _But he's just a boy,_ Cress retorted.

 _He's breaking imperial law._

 _But he could be free if he manages to leave._

Almost as if he sensed her presence, the boy's head whipped up and met hers, startlingly blue. Cress blanched, feeling her soul drain from her as she tentatively took a step forward. She forgot she was the Crown Princess for a moment as he stared at her.

For a moment, something like guilt flashed across his face, though it was quickly replaced with defiance. He opened his mouth to speak - presumably an angry flow - but Cress spoke first, almost wishing she hadn't, as her voice dried on her throat.

 _Stars, you're more handsome than anyone I've ever seen,_ Cress wanted to tell him, but the words that came out were quite different. A soft whisper. "Go. I won't stop you."

"What?"

"Please... just go." Cress managed a weak smile, flushing pink. "I... uh... well... I hope you... uh... do well out there."

The boy stepped toward her, reaching out one hand. "Thorne."

"I'm... uh... Cress. Well, Crescent, but... well... you can call me Cress."

He grinned, a flashing smile that made Cress just want to vanish. She was sure her face was blossoming red, by now, as she tried to stare somewhere else other than those eyes that kept drawing her back. And he was nearly half a foot taller than she was, making her feel suddenly awkward, like a bumbling child.

"Well, then, thanks, Princess." He took her hand, gently, and planted a soft kiss against her fingers, curiosity radiating off of him, probably once he saw the scars on her hand.

"Uh... what?"

He raised an eyebrow, still maintaining that grin. "Princess. You know, you're the princess." The left side of his jaw quirked up in a half-smile, and Cress hated herself for thinking he was so handsome. _Of course, Cress, you stupid girl. He wouldn't be calling you_ his _princess._

"Oh... um... right. I... shouldn't be out here, either, so..."

"It was also because of my dashing good looks and great charm that you're letting me go, right?"

What? How had he guessed that she thought he was handsome? Well... many girls probably told him the same thing... Cress saw his joking grin, and let out a breath through her teeth. "Uh..." What in the stars was she supposed to say to that?

"I'm joking. Relax." He grinned. Oh, that grin was going to _kill_ her. "Well... thanks again." He touched her shoulder, making her look straight into the depths of his eyes. "I mean it. Not everyone would do that."

Cress loosed a breath. "I... wish you well, Thorne. I hope our paths cross again."

Her arms moved out in a fluid wave, her heart moving freely with it. The resistance salute. The _Zanyah'_ ssymbol, well-known to everyone. The silly, lovesick smile fell from her face as she realized, as a Princess, what she was doing. Her arms dropped, and she did her best to rearrange her features into nonchalance... though she was sure it wasn't working.

"Thanks... uh... Cress." It was clearly an effort for him to not say 'Your Highness', or anything of the sort. "I hope to see you again, soon, too. Everything you've done, keeping this a secret... it really means the world and stars to me. Thank you."

And he was gone, Cress staring longingly after him, until she finally forced herself to tear her gaze away.

* * *

 _ **Thorne**_ _ **:**_

 _She gave me the_ Zanyah _salute,_ was the first thought that went through his head.

 _She gave me the freaking salute of the revolutionaries._

Did that mean she agreed with him, too?

Thorne cast a glance back over his shoulder to see her still staring after him, her unusually long hair blowing back in the distance. She was beautiful, not in the way that everyone thought a princess might be. She was... well, sweetly, innocently beautiful.

It took him only a few seconds to deem that everything he had heard about the Crown Princess was absolute nonsense. There was _no way_ that this girl could live in a bat cave and talk to trolls and ghuls. That just couldn't be. This girl was... entirely unexpected for what he thought a princess should be. He didn't even recognize her through the ripped clothing and wild hair until she told him her name.

If the Crown Princess was really _against_ Levana... well... that would make a big difference, wouldn't it? She seemed... too fragile... to have such a heavy load on her.

Thorne counted his steps as he kept up his steady jog, thoughts flashing at him from all directions.

Left. _Just get the hell out of here, and don't look back._

Right. _She was so small, so delicate... hopefully, nothing would happen to her if she was found out._

Left. _Good riddance. They're all just pompous, arrogant royals or royal-supporters who don't deserve a second thought._

Right. _But not her._

Left. _Maybe you can find the_ Zanyah _and join them._

Right. _If that hell-invoked queen does anything to her... I will seriously bring the entire resistance to repay the favor._

* * *

 **Okay! First chapter done! This one was just more words because of the beginning - all the summaries of each the characters. Okay, and the actual content was a lot of words. The next ones will hopefully be shorter. But no promises.**

 **I wish I could get Cress's abilites. I'd be playing with fire all day. Anyway, Cress/Thorne has already begun! Yay!**

 **I hope you liked it so far. Please review!**

 **\- Shadowy**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi, and welcome back! Thanks for reviewing!**

 **Oh, and by the way, as I definitely forgot to mention, a few of the ages (not those of the main eight or so characters) are changed a bit to suit the story better. As you'll see in this chapter, Peony is only twelve.**

 **I also kept Winter's last name as 'Hayle' because I didn't want her to be blood-related to Levana.**

 **Let's get going!**

* * *

CHAPTER 2

 _ **Scarlet**_ _ **:**_

 _Take aim... release._ Scarlet smirked to herself as her arrow found its mark, in the narrow slit of the metal armor collar the imperial guards wore. Blood sprayed as he went down, as Scarlet pushed red curls from her eyes and reached over her shoulder for another arrow.

The _Zanyah_ were doing quite well for 'untrained savages', as the queen liked to call them. They had no armor - save for some very thick jackets - or defensive mechanisms, and yet were able to hold their own against the trained, protected guards. Not like last time... well, success came in numbers.

Scarlet and her team of archers had already taken down the royal archers... who, let's say, weren't much of a match for them.

They weren't supposed to win this battle, Kai had told her - even though, as of now, they were clearly doing well. So when Kai lifted his arms, moved his hands in circular motions around each other, and let out a low call of _'fall back'_ , part of Scarlet wanted to keep fighting and destroy the palace as they knew it, though she leaped down to help Kai lead away the _Zanyah,_ anyway. It was definitely better than last time, and not entirely a suicide mission.

Last time... Scarlet didn't want to think of it as she jogged over to Kai, raising one arm over her head to beckon the other resistance members. "Are you hurt?"

"No." Kai brushed away blood that dripped into his eyes as he stood, shakily. Scarlet frowned, holding out an arm to help steady him, as she looked out to the bloodstained battlefield. _What a royal welcome this place will give to a visiting province_.

"Right." Scarlet gave a small, dry cough as she placed a pale hand on his shoulder, where dark blood had seeped through his clothing. She felt him recoil beside her, and sighed. "I guess we can't do anything about that now... but you had _better_ let one of the healers look at it once you get back. And if it starts hurting more-"

"-I'll tell you," Kai finished with a sigh.

"You know me too well," Scarlet stated, flashing him a grin. "Anyway, what do you think of this beautiful scenery around here? A grand display of blood samples from each and every one of us, to be used for medical purposes. You know, they should be thanking us for that."

Kai grinned, nudging her sharply, and Scarlet elbowed him back.

Scarlet wrenched the sword from Kai's hands and blocked a blow from one of the few palace guards who hadn't left yet, and was still bent on attacking. Ignoring his growl of 'get lost!', Scarlet placed a sharp kick to his stomach, watching his eyes bulge as he landed a few yards away.

"Nice." Kai clapped once in appreciation.

"If only all fights were that easy," Scarlet muttered, handing the sword back.

Kai shrugged. "Then they wouldn't have much of a royal guard, would they?"

"Exactly." Scarlet lifted her head at the sound of a commanding call, watching intently as the large, muscular Captain of the Royal Guard cast a startlingly green gaze in her direction before sharply leading the rest of the royal guards into the palace, save for the remaining external guards.

"Come on, we'd better help get some of these people back to the catacombs," Kai stated matter-of-factly, turning away. Scarlet put a hand on his non-injured shoulder, turning him back to face her with wild confusion etched plainly across his face.

"You're overworking yourself, Kai," she murmured quietly. "I know the revolution - Sana - all mean a lot to you. They mean a lot to me, too... but just know that though we _believe_ in you as a good leader, we're not _relying_ on you. I mean, you're a good warrior and leader, but the resistance won't die if... say, something happens to you."

"Thanks, Scarlet, but talk of my death isn't very reassuring." He broke into a smile.

Scarlet rolled her eyes. "I was _trying_ to be helpful. Next time, work yourself to death, and I'll laugh over your grave."

Kai grinned. "Well, thanks. I'll appreciate that humor." He paused for a moment, staring at the scene around them. "But... I get what you mean. Thanks." He stiffened sharply, lifting his hands so that Scarlet knew he was going to say something important. "Okay. Remember, we attack again, as soon as we can. I'll let you fight in the mess this time, because we might need it. We'll go a little further than we did this time, but we strike for damage, not to win. Got it?"

She nodded, then raised an eyebrow. "So you admit that I'm a great fighter as well as _the best_ archer."

"...Well, we also need as many fighters as we can get." Kai flashed a taunting grin for less than a heartbeat, before letting it fall. "So... we should all make sure that the injuries at well-healed as soon as possible, once we get back. Okay?"

Scarlet exhaled through her nose, knowing that no matter what she said, nothing would change the fact that Kai was going to worry. Perpetually. "Careful, Kai," Scarlet muttered under her breath, just as he turned away, "at this rate, you'll have gray hair at the age of thirty."

"What was that?" Kai spun around, glaring - though she could still detect amusement lingering in the depths of his eyes.

Scarlet crossed her arms. "Nothing."

* * *

 _ **Cinder** **:**_

Cinder panted roughly as she flung open the door and slammed it quickly, sliding to the ground, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Though it was still cold, she was sweating, her face streaked with dirt and sweat as she brushed a few stray strands of hair from her eyes and dropped the small sack beside her.

"Cinder? What happened?" The small voice came from the girl who stepped out of the shadows. Dark rings had already formed around her eyes, and there was a long scar across her forehead that would forever remind her of what she had been through at such a young age.

Peony was only twelve, younger still when she had gotten that scar. And since then, Cinder had never taken her on one of her 'trips' again, despite the danger that would come with leaving her in the hut alone. It had been a knife wound that had taken over a month to fully clot and scar.

There was no other way to get food other than to steal it, as Cinder had determined long ago, but she hadn't known until then how dangerous it could be for a small child.

Cinder forced a smile. "Nothing much. Just the usual. Except they nearly caught me this time." _Not really,_ but she would never tell Peony that. She grinned to herself. It had been a game as a young child to pretend that she was a 'master of stealth', and had never known that she would actually need it as she did as a wanted thief nowadays.

But, they'd never really seen her face, so they didn't know whom to look for as a thief. Which was good, because if she was found out, Peony would be in danger, as well as her.

"You should be careful, Cinder," Peony said, worry lacing her voice.

Cinder sighed. "You know I am. I just can't help it. But... there's nothing for you to worry about, little flower." She drew Peony into a warm embrace - a sisterly embrace, even though Cinder had only met her and started caring for her a few years ago.

"Thanks, Cinder." Peony pressed her head into Cinder's shoulder. "You're a great sister."

Cinder smiled against Peony's hair. "You're a beautiful girl, Peony, inside and out." And she was. Peony, with her chestnut curls and beautiful golden eyes, had the kindest heart Cinder could ever imagine. For stars' sake, she would give up part of her rare meals to stray dogs that she could see through the window.

Cinder paused, reaching out to open the sack. Her heart sank at the pitiful amount inside it, but she broke away from Peony and pushed it to her. "Here. You take it all. I'm going to go back out there. This isn't enough to feed even half of you."

"Be careful, Cinder," Peony murmured, placing a soft hand on Cinder's callused palm.

Cinder grinned at her, rising and flinging open the door with more bravado than necessary. "Always."

The dark hood was over her head in an instant, a mask slipping up deftly to cover up all of her face but her eyes - as soon as the door shut behind Cinder. The black gloves on her hand fumbled for a moment with her dark cloak before tightening it around her. It was boiling in this useless excuse for a village, but the head-to-toe black clothes helped her blend into the shadows as well as worked as an intimidation tactic - as she had figured out a few years ago.

The streets were surprisingly empty, unlike the way they had been a few minutes ago. Cinder lowered her head, the hair on the back of her neck pricking with alarm. She slipped into the shadow of the abandoned schoolhouse, hoping to remain unnoticed by any danger that posed its threat.

 _There has to be some reason for such an empty place._

Cinder tensed, clenching her muscles at her sides, but kept up her pace as she slipped down the abandoned lane and turned the corner. The place was somehow unfamiliar without its people and loud chatter, as if the village had been replaced with entirely another.

She almost groaned in relief as the reason struck her. Today was the annual Gathering of the village, where all the people met in a former storehouse, that, when the shelves had been torn down and the space cleared, had proved to be large enough to comfortably fit all of the small village - less than seven hundred or so.

Her stomach clenched as she realized that now, since she wasn't with her adopted sister, Peony wouldn't be able to go to this event, as much as she had wanted. Cinder debated turning back, but she sighed and continued on, slightly envious of Peony's unflinching selflessness. _The emptier it is, the easier it is to... say... find what I need._

The mask clung to Cinder's face, and she mentally cursed the searing heat to the stars. But there were still a few people around, and though few, Cinder wasn't going to chance thieving without the mask.

 _I've never been down this way before._

Cinder turned down an empty lane - though it was more of a rural pathway than a lane - and felt her knees buckle uncertainly at the eerie stillness around her. It might prove to be a good shortcut, sooner or later... and it was worth it.

Besides, what was the _worst_ that could happen? A gang of thieves? Nothing she wouldn't be able to handle, though it may have been slightly foolish to walk straight into a gang of thieves.

Even the gay songbirds had fallen silent, and the breeze had fallen still. Cinder shuddered, suddenly feeling all-too cramped in her dark sweater and black pants - especially the tight, canvas-like material that wrapped around her breasts beneath her clothing, to reduce her feminine appearance.

Not that she looked strikingly female, with her angular, awkward figure.

Cinder half-turned toward the empty meadow to one side of her, wondering for a moment what it would be like to just run, run out into the vast expanse of what lay beyond, and not have a care in the world for the rest of her life.

But no. She had Peony, and would not be able to bear being apart from her adopted sister. And Peony wouldn't be able to manage a day, eating pheasant flesh and sleeping on the grassy ground. She sighed, turning back to face forward, suddenly feeling foolish for coming up with such a daft and impossible idea.

Cinder pulled her black cloak tighter around her as she stalked forward, suddenly feeling awkwardly vulnerable at the stillness around her.

She felt like she was walking into a trap, and hell would explode as soon as she did so.

Had someone found out about her... daily exploits?

The thought unnerved her more than it should have. Not only because of her, but... Peony. In this pathetic excuse for a residential village, there would be no one willing or entirely capable - by her standards - who could possibly care for the twelve-year-old.

* * *

 _ **Wolf** **:**_

"As you wish, Your Highness." Wolf forced down his frustration as Queen Levana dismissed him, bowing low as he exited the throne room.

 _Absolute nonsense._ He was to hunt down and bring back one of the leaders of the _Zanyah._ Alone. Even though all of the royal guard and army searching together hadn't been enough. Of course, it was purely logical to imagine that only the Captain of the Guard would be able to do so, right?

Wolf hurled his sword to the ground once he made it to the training room, then slumped to the ground. _Just... great._

A hand touched his shoulder, and Wolf recognized it before he turned. Elise, the only female in all of the guards and soldiers - whom Wolf always considered to be too weak and soft-hearted as a guard. She was infuriatingly kind and innocent... not born and bred for such a deceitful world.

Wolf got up from his knees and stood, leaning against the wall. Sure enough, the innocently beautiful dark-haired girl was only a child, around fourteen. True, Wolf had become Captain of the Royal Guard at twelve... but he'd actually been more than capable.

Elise was... well... she wasn't lazy, nor cold-hearted, nor ignorant... it was just that she often didn't grasp things as well as most others. The only steady thing about her was her unfaltering compassion... which often proved to be a weakness on the field.

But she obeyed orders decently enough, Wolf admitted. It was a wonder she managed to get the position. However... all clues pointed toward bribery, her parents wanting to get rid of a mentally weak child, though no one would ever dare say that before the Queen herself.

He'd never allowed himself to have friends, because they would always just be used against him. Still... she was probably the closest thing to a friend that he had - more than just a sparring partner or a most disiplined guard. He was more like her protector, her caretaker - growling at some of the younger soldiers as they cast their hungry eyes her way. Elise, of course, didn't understand the point of any of it.

"Are you okay?" Elise put her hand gently on his cheek, but Wolf flinched away. He _wasn't going to have friends._ There was no point. They would all either die or be tortured by Levana sooner or later... so no point getting attached to them and feeling sorry later.

"Just fine." Wolf's words came out in a low growl, but Elise didn't move away.

"It seems that something is bothering you," she murmured slowly, and Wolf resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Wolf stifled a long sigh. "Nothing, Elise," he muttered, slowly, so that she could catch every word. "Her Highness has just given me a new task, and I must get started in the morning."

"How delightful!" Elise pressed her hands together, her large blue eyes widening as she smiled sweetly.

"Yes, yes," Wolf growled, "now please, go train somewhere over there." He jabbed a big hand in the opposite direction, sheathed and fastened his sword, and jogged in the opposite direction without bothering to check where Elise went.

* * *

 _ **Winter**_ _ **:**_

"Go ahead, Hayle."

Winter bowed her head and broke off a morsel of the tart before tentatively placing it on her tongue.

She breathed in as she ate, pinched her nose while chewing, and ran her tongue roughly around the morsel, checking for any poison that might have been present within the food. Her Highness Queen Levana would not be satisfied with anything less than the best work.

It was her job. As the royal food taster, she was in charge of making sure that the queen wasn't poisoned. In other words, she was an easily replaceable figure, someone to serve until death, worrying each moment if she would survive until the next day.

Fortunately, she'd been given _some_ training beforehand, so more often than not, she would be able to spit out the poisoned food before she fully digested it.

It had happened once before. She'd spat out the poison - Lover's Ache, it was called, and known to painfully torture the taker instants into its intake. Stars, it had hurt. She would never forget the way she had dropped to her knees before desparately forcing it out of her mouth.

Tears had been running down her eyes, and she hadn't been able to stop them. Her entire body had tightened up, then loosened, then tightened again, and she had sobbed and screamed, trying to bat away the pain that raked through her body.

Winter had woken in the medic's room, still aching from wounds that she couldn't see. And if that weren't enough... Levana had carved a deep, precise line down her back, that had scarred only after several days of high fever and headache.

 _For staining her carpet._

Winter bowed her head to Queen Levana, a silent approval.

With a simple flick of her wrist, the achingly-beautiful queen dismissed her, and Winter, not daring to straighten from her bow until she was safely out of the room, then breathed out in relief. Another meal, gone. She wasn't sure how many she had left.

* * *

 _ **Cinder** **:**_

Cinder tugged her mask down harshly to cover more of her features, ignoring the churning protest that struggled to make itself heard as the mask dragged uncomfortably against her moist face. She pulled her hood down lower over her forehead, covering any last slit of skin that remained exposed between the stark contrasts of her black mask and hood.

 _Right. Intimidating._ She was sweating, and not only from the heat. Her hands trembled at the slightest movement, and every time she pressed herself on and dragged one foot in front of another, her knees quaked and threatened to collapse.

Cinder paused, slumping against the brick wall that formed the solid side of the path. She wasn't tired... but still needed to catch her breath. It was too hard to take in air; her breath just kept catching in her throat as she looked cautiously to both sides of her.

 _Breathe, Cinder._

Cinder shut her eyes, despite the protests screaming inside her to _stop,_ to _look around and make sure she was safe._ Pure air flooded her lungs, and her shoulders sagged a little in the relief. The air was awfully hot, and the mask was doing absolutely nothing to help the air touch her skin.

Cinder's eyes flew open as she felt something sharp prick her throat. She didn't dare move, but her pupils strained to distinguish the silver sheen from the object that was pressed against her neck. She froze as the realization struck her. How had she not noticed? _I should never have stopped._

A knife.

Someone was holding a knife against her throat.

She was caught between the knife and the sturdy body of the knife's wielder.

Instinct kicked in. Cinder threw herself backward, ramming herself into the weight of her attacker. She heard his breath leave him - for she had figured out from the hard, flat chest that he was male - in a surprised whoosh as he took a pace back. Cinder whipped around defensively, her knees bent slightly in her typical defensive stance.

Her attacker looked to be about twenty-three or so, about six or seven years older than she was. What caught her eye first was his hair - strikingly silver, and cut long, it fell around him in a somehow fitting way as he stood his ground against her, those deep blue eyes cold. Understandable, because she didn't seem like a sixteen-year-old girl to him, not in the clothing that an assassin might wear. True, he wasn't excessively handsome, but he certainly was somehow alluring.

Her hand fumbled for a moment before she whipped out her single knife - a wicked-looking blade - from its sheath at her thigh. She cursed silently as her fingers brushed something warm and wet. Damn the knife. She'd cut herself - but it wasn't deep.

Cinder's head spun, staggering back before she realized that the attack had happened. She took a harsh blow from his fist to her jaw, her head singing as he sent her flying face-first into the wall. His knife swung through the air, faster than she had ever seen, and she swore as pain welled in her upper arm.

But she'd been watching his movements: the way he favored his left leg slightly, and the direct way he attacked.

So this time, she was ready.

His fist flew out, but Cinder arched her back, tensing with the effort, and swung out with an open hand, catching him in the throat and sending him staggering back. Not waiting for another opportunity, Cinder hooked out a foot from under him.

She smirked to herself as he stumbled, and caught himself after a few moments.

Cinder froze as she noticed another watching her: another boy, younger than her attacker, with a handsome face and dark hair that draped over his eyebrows in a strangely charming way. She frowned as he began walking toward them - but she had no time to think about it as her opponent struck again.

She gasped in surprise as the blow met her in full force, but she caught herself. By now, she had established that this was no village thief.

Cinder let out a grunt - controlling a scream that would definitely give her away - as his fist collided with the base of her chin, knocking her head back as she kicked out forward. Though she caught him directly in the chest, she staggered back at her loss of balance, cursing her attacker to hell in a low growl as she sent her knife slicing cleanly into his shoulder.

He howled, silver hair flying, as she ripped her knife out and sent a foot flying into his groin. Cinder would have smirked, but her attacker grabbed an arm and _twisted_ hard - so fast and so lethally graceful that she staggered, breath catching in unspeakable pain.

Her knife found its way into his forehead, leaving a gash that made his alluring face look even more wildly dangerous - but at least he let go of her and took a pace back. She'd never fought anyone like him: anyone who was so much more than a match for her.

Cinder grunted as a heavy kick to her stomach sent the breath flying out of her. She retaliated by swinging out with a fist, but his hand caught her wrist before she could make contact. He wasn't just holding her, she realized, after an indescribable pain spread throughout her wrist: he was crushing her hand with nothing more than his. Her eyes widened beneath her mask, as sickening agony spread. Cinder's lips parted in a silent shriek as she struggled to break free.

She was going to _lock this idiot up in a grave._ And never look back upon doing so.

Cinder's stomach clenched. Stars, her _wrist -_ she almost fell to her knees as he released her, after granting her a blow to the face. It wouldn't have done too much harm, considering the mask, but it _felt_ bad, especially as something that was either blood or sweat dripped down her face beneath the mask. Right below her eye, on the point of her cheekbone.

She caught a glimpse of him through the holes in the mask, and her teeth clenched as she noted that his face wasn't even strained. _Pompous, conceited, egotistic..._ She glared, though he probably couldn't have made out the burning in her eyes.

Cinder swung, but he was faster, backhanding her so hard that she stumbled back and landed on the ground. Her breath came in hard gasps as pain flashed through her leg: she'd landed wrong. She was acutely aware of the fact that the other boy had come closer, but had made no movement to attack or defend her. She hissed at both of them through her teeth. _Idiots._

She was all-too-vulnerable to the silver-haired boy's attacks, now that she was lying defenseless on the ground... but as she tried to get up, her leg shrieked in pain, and she landed on the ground again, suppressing a scream. She lifted her knife between them, a useless defense as he bore prowled closer.

The knife was out of her hands before she could realize that he had swiped it with a deft movement. The other boy's handsome face came into view, and she reached out a hand, weakly curled into a fist - not to attack, but as a final plea for him not to kill her.

As her vision darkened around the edges, Cinder tried to keep her eyes open, not bothering to fight back as the second boy - the handsome one who had joined the scene later - reached out, almost tentatively, his hands brushing the cool material of her mask.

And ripped the thing off.

The last thing Cinder saw before she gave into blackness was the look of horrified and - dare she call it regretful? - shock etched onto his face.

* * *

 **Okay. Chapter 2 done!**

 **That was more of a Cinder-centered chapter... I'm sorry for the cliffhanger... not really.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading!**

 **Review please!**

 **\- Shadowy**


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